my hands smell like cumin…

because I am making homemade black bean soup! I planned this for today’s dinner menu before I knew DLJ was going back to the dentist to fill some cavities, but now I am happy cause it will be easy for him to eat. Once the midday lunch rush is over I will do my errands to the library and post office, so that means now I should battle the cold demon and go fire up the kiln…or maybe I should do that after DLJ gets home, so that someone is here while I go for my walk later. I don’t like having the kiln on as it ramps up when it is home alone.

Laundry. I can start laundry. And find the tour phone and plug it in, it’s totally dead. Which means I can’t call it. I think it’s actually in the car, which makes no sense, but there you go.

I got myself Skype yesterday so I can talk to some pals in England and and dear boy from New Zealand who is in Australia now….some of my VERY old readers might remember him, he whisked me away on a whirlwind romance when I backpacked through Europe.

I love that I stay in touch with people who are so far away, both across miles and through time.

2 thoughts on “my hands smell like cumin…

  1. I just left this message on your livejournal feed:

    Hey there! I still need your phone number. I don’t have anything planned for pretty much all of tomorrow. I figure I’ll sleep in nice and late and then laze around the hotel until I need to check out at noon. A friend’s brother is a chef at some restaurant called The Green Room. Rob says it’s in the Industrial Area. I don’t know if that sounds appealing at all. Anyway, I’m going to turn off my phone at about 10:00, but if you want to call me, I’m at the Mark Spencer in room 504. I’ll probably be awake until at least 11:00.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>